A Turn for the Better
by Deep Roller
Summary: Christine learns how to live with lions.


A Turn for the Better

By Deep Roller

A/N: Don't ask me to explain this. I'm just along for the ride.

Disclaimer: Phantom characters copyright to their original creator, Gaston Leroux. Aesop's fable copyright to…er…Aesop. Erika's sad excuse for writing copyrighted to me. :D

She had never touched a tarot card before, and didn't know what possessed her to pick one up now. But then again, Raoul had left her alone again, and it was just a natural extension of her mild sense of boredom. Where she had gotten the tarot cards was another mystery. She was certain she hadn't seen them before. Perhaps they had been here all along, and she had missed them in the run of the everyday.

Her fingers rifled through them as she scanned their pictures. They smelled old, of mystery and promise, and darkness too. She knew they were silly, of course. Their very premise was laughable and inane. Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, however, and her fingers stopped at one picture.

Strength.

There was a young woman on the card. She was serene, self possessed, and breathed an air of security. She was bending over, her hands on the mane of a magnificent lion who seemed adoring to her caresses. Over her head was the symbol of infinity and she was immersed in a glow of light. The image made Christine catch her breath. She traced the woman with one finger, pulling the card from the deck to study it more intently. An Aesop's fable, one of Papa's stories. The cold nights she spent huddled at Papa's feet, listening to his tales, and this one of all of them was coming back to her.

"A lion fell in love with a beautiful maiden. He wanted to marry her, so he sought her out and asked for her hand. The maiden was terrified of the lion, and ran home to her parents. They were distraught by the King of the Beasts' proposal, but they dared not refuse him. They did not want their tender young daughter harmed by such weapons! The maiden approached the lion timidly and told him 'If you should remove your claws and teeth which frighten me so, I would marry you.' The lion agreed readily enough, but when he returned to the maiden, his claws filed down and his teeth removed, he was driven away and now had not the means to defend himself. They laughed at him and told him to do his worst.'

"But Papa," said Christine in confusion, "why would ANYONE want to marry a lion?"

"My dear little Christine, it's a fable, it isn't real. It's meant to teach you something. In this case, it's that love will tame even the wildest of hearts. And love will make meek out of the monsters in this world."

It was all so vivid, it was as if she was back there, listening to her father patiently explain the moral of the fable. She tucked the card away in her jewel box for safekeeping, her mind swirling with the ramifications of her find.

Christine was sitting in a field, combing her hair as a breeze danced at her face. She smiled at the glory of the morning, and at the wonders of life around her. But suddenly the sky darkened and she froze. Standing before her was a fearsome lion! He snarled, revealing horrible teeth that looked ready to rend her throat. But then he spoke.

"Love will make meek out of the monsters of this world." He drew closer, and she took a sharp intake of breath. His claws, his teeth, they were so big! She was going to be eaten, she was so afraid. But from behind she felt rather than saw a warm glow bathe them both. Looking up she was blinded by the light of the figure behind her. She felt safe, and as a light hand rested on her shoulder, she turned her gaze back to the lion. It was the woman from the tarot card, she knew, as the figure bent around Christine to caress the lion's chin. But she couldn't see the woman's face, just a curtain of hair that fell down, encircling the figure and the lion in a private converging of minds. And suddenly he didn't seem quite so fierce. There was something here, something she was supposed to see, to feel. She couldn't she could only watch and wonder as the figure and the lion froze in their eternal stances.

She obsessed over the card for the next week, making Raoul wonder exactly what was going on. She kept the card close to her, and when he asked her about it on one of his visits, she mumbled something about one of father's tales.

"Christine, I'm worried about you. Is there something wrong? You've been very upset this past week. You're not eating, you're not doing anything. Should we see a doctor for you?" His concern was real as he looked into her eyes. But her eyes were distracted and her reassurances lacking marrow.

"I'm fine. I'm just…" Raoul was unnerved to find she hadn't finished her sentence as she left the room. But he would respect her wishes, at least for a little longer.

Strength. Did she have the strength to pursue this? She was uncertain of what exactly she was supposed to do, but the dream had been clear. She couldn't stand idly by. Something was pulling at her, calling to her, and it had all started when she picked up that card.

She hadn't been down in over a week. She had been afraid of returning, but tucking the card close in her parka soothed her as she made her way down the steps, into the cellars. Erik's cellars, the lion's den. Could she ask him to remove his teeth and claws? Why, if he did he wouldn't be a lion anymore! She understood now what little Christine had failed to grasp; that you could love a lion as much as a lion loved. That lions DID fall in love with maidens every once in awhile. But upon reaching the boat, she froze. The claws and teeth of a lion's fierce devotion could kill many a girl, if they weren't able to hold up to it. She would see, perhaps she could.

But that night she was not strong enough to understand. He gladly received her, as he always did when she visited, giving her welcome and showing her to her room. The words crouched frozen on the bottom of her mouth like a stunned, cold rodent. She couldn't say them, he would laugh! He would rip her to shreds. He, like Raoul, knew she was distracted by something. Unlike Raoul, he would not confront her about it. Erik preferred not to delve into these sorts of things. After all, she could be deliberating between himself or the boy. It would be better not to press any issue. As he was heading towards the organ, he spied a sliver of something on the ground. Curious as always, he bent to pick it up.

Strength. So that was it, he thought to himself. Somehow, without asking her, he knew now what plagued her. Or thought he did, with Christine he was never so sure. He did know the fable as well as Papa Daae, however. _'I will not be giving up these claws and teeth, my dear!' _He thought almost bitterly, '_I'd rather die_'. But in his heart he knew that, as the lion in the fable, he would do whatever she asked of him in her soft, plaintive voice. Erik had already gone to great lengths for her, that much was true. Anything for a word from his maiden. And also like the lion, he had a funny feeling that it would end badly for him either way. He could keep his claws and teeth and forever earn the fear of the maiden, or he could remove them and face the driving scorn of opposition with no weapons left to him. In his eyes, he wasn't sure which was worse at this point. He thought ruefully that if he were a lion, he might have great fun in frightening the ballet girls. Not that he didn't already.

"Erik?"

"Yes, Christine."

"Erik I…I wanted to…to talk to you." She was tremulous, as always, and she shrunk against the doorframe. Last night's dream, a new one, had bolstered her inner resolve however..

"I know," he said quietly. "About this, I'd imagine." The card appeared between his fingers and she plucked it from them carefully and looked at it. Gulping, she nodded and she tried to look anyplace but at him. The woman and lion on the card hovered, swayed, and bent with threatened tears.

"I was looking through Tarot cards and I found it and remembered Papa's tales. And my dreams, I…I was searching for the moral. I couldn't understand why a woman would love a lion…"

It was her. She had been combing her hair, as in the previous dream, and the lion had appeared in his darkness of clouds. But when the light bathed her from behind and she looked to see the faceless woman, she found the moral driven hard into her heart. The serene, strong young maiden leaning to caress the lion was herself! She knew now what she must tell Erik. It was the telling that caused her trepidation.

"Do you know that story?" She finished stupidly. He nodded wordlessly, making it all the harder for her to continue. "He told me that the moral was…was that love makes meek out of the monsters of this world."

"Is that what you think?" He asked, a touch of hurt in his voice, an indignant voice Christine recognized as a prelude to anger. "You think that I'm your meek monster?"

"Erik, you didn't let me finish." Christine reprimanded with unexpected resolve that startled the indignancy out of his voice and caused him to fall silent. "I dreamed of it, and the real moral is something else. Papa was wrong." Hesitantly, oh so hesitantly, she stepped closer to him. He held still, tense, watching. The lion with all of his claws and teeth. And she wasn't afraid anymore.

"Love doesn't do that," she whispered, venturing to touch his hand. "Love makes us face ourselves, though. It makes us brave, strong." She showed him the card and a soft smile played on her face. "And it rewards us. If I am afraid of a lion's claws and teeth, I must not ask him to remove them. I must either learn to love another," his hand drew away, she reached for it again, "or learn to not be afraid." She looked earnestly into his eyes, and he looked back at her with something like wonder. It was and wasn't Christine. "I think I will always be a little afraid, though." She said seriously.

"A lion can learn too, Christine. A lion can learn to sheathe his claws and gentle his teeth. They do not have to be removed. They will always be there, yes, but they will be used for better things than the killing of young maidens." Erik said rather shakily, and he was rewarded with a gentle smile.

"It's something that takes practice, living with a lion. And it takes bravery, strength." She handed the card back to him, pressing it into his palm. Stepping away from him, she eyed him earnestly again, making him worry that she was on the verge of leaving once more. "I think I am up to the challenge, however."

And with that, Christine stepped closer to her lion, laying her head on his fierce shoulder. His arm came around to encircle her protectively as a gentle quiet fell over them both .


End file.
